The Primrose
by Shadows of Rohan
Summary: From the eyes of the rebellious Brillian, Rohan is changing, and so is the way of life. Follow her through times of betrayal, observations, maturing, and sarcasam. Watch as seh faces horrible beasts such as mothers, betrothals, and ladies who are arrogant
1. Chapter 1

The Primrose  
  
By Peachblossom luver, a shadow of rohan.  
  
A.n- This story came to me as I was watching the horses run in their pastures after I fed them last weekend.  
  
~*~  
  
There is no joy, no sensation akin to that of the thundering pounding of a horse's hooves as they gallop. Especially when you are along for the ride.  
  
Rolling hills as far as I see, the color of a fresh loaf of bread, and as familiar as my name. As my customs.  
  
But the war changed that. No longer are our soldiers loved in the city. No longer does our King make the decisions. Nay, that worm whispers dark things into the ears of Roan's ruler.  
  
Walking my horse to the top of the highest hill, I slowly swung my leg over the cantle, landing with a soft thud on the grassy hill.  
  
Loosening the leather girth, and running up my stirrups, I sat upon the knoll, gazing out across the plains.  
  
There was much to consider and think upon these days. My brother had just left with the Third Marshal, Eomer, and they were banished from the land, by that snake, Grima Wormtounge. How I hated him.  
  
I was a handmaiden to the lady Eowyn. A most interesting job, to be sure, but not one that I necessarily enjoy.  
  
How I would love to be like her, fighting with the soldiers, defending my home. But I know what my mother would say, and Father backing her up.  
  
"I cannot let my youngest, and only daughter take up the sword. It is unseemly enough that you race around with that beast of yours all day, when you should be at home; working on the proper things that young ladies should be working on.  
  
When I myself was a young lass, there was none of this - gallivanting - about the countryside. And then it was not dangerous to do so! But this! No, 'tis not acceptable for you to be doing this."  
  
Mother is Gondorian. She does not know the pull the earth has upon me, the calling voice of the wind, the whispering tales the streams and brooks have to tell. Father goes along with her to placate her, but I can see the same longing in his eyes. That is why he went with Anwar, to fight with Eomer.  
  
Feeling a pounding, rushing beat below, I glance up, extracted from my thoughts. There, in all their glory, was a herd of horses, running as if to escape the dark lord himself.  
  
Fanawy whinnied, a loud, proud sound that carried out over the plains. Answering calls floated back to her.  
  
In the distance, far away, I saw the banner of the White Horse. There, on the boarders of our lands, was my brother and his fellows.  
  
Being the handmaiden to the Lady of Rohan has its perks. Especially if this particular lady is as stubborn as a mule. I had learned how to fight, just to spite my mother.  
  
Sighing, I leaned back, and felt the wind in my hair.  
  
Seeing as I was part Gondorian, I had the dark hair of my mother's people. But that was where the likeness ended.  
  
I was tall and had the brown eyes of my father, a light honey colored hue, and the fair skin also. It came without saying that I had the talent of all the Rohirric with the horses.  
  
I also had the temper that went with my Father's people. My brother said that it made sense, that all roses had their thorns.  
  
My name is Brillian, the primrose. I am not sure as to how I came to claim that name. I am not beautiful, I have an atrocious temper, and I am not meek and mild. No, I defy my parents.  
  
Is that not why I came to this secluded area, to escape my troubles? Is that not why the world turns its face from the problems of right and wrong? Is that why this war is taking place?  
  
I may seem over dramatic, but please forgive me. There is the slight problem of not wanting to be married.  
  
Yes, married. Every girls dream, is it not, to be married to some rich, handsome young man? But I am only 16, and I have not seen the world, not had enough of that freedom that keeps calling me, not seen the wonders I hear of in tales and songs.  
  
I am told that I am lucky that I have a man at my doorstep, and that 16 is plenty old enough to be married.  
  
Once again, my Mother's words rang through my head. "I was but 15 when I was engaged to your father. I was 17 when married to him. You should think yourself lucky. You will not be married until you are 19. Plenty of time for that 'freedom' of which you lust so after."  
  
15! My mother did not know the meaning of a life without marriage, the life of living on a whim, going where one pleases, when one pleases.  
  
My poor father, I am sure, did not know what he was getting into.  
  
But marriage in a time such as this? When our men are off to war, orcs rampaging through the towns, killing and destroying everything in their way?  
  
No. I see no hope. There is a black cloud rising more and more, covering like a thick blanket, smothering and suffocating out our hope, and most importantly, our sense.  
  
Where is the proud and magnificent personality of Rohan that we are famed for? Our robust men that fight whatever evil come their way?  
  
Call me a pessimist, but I do not see how we will shall come out of this alive.  
  
I am sick of watching this go by, day after day, not having a thing happening.  
  
Getting up with a groan, I looked over at my mare, who was quietly dozing. Nudging her, I rubbed her ear.  
  
"How about we go girl? Hmmm?" patting her rust colored neck one last time, I grabbed a fistful of mane, grabbed the cantle, and swung up onto her back.  
  
Slightly putting pressure on my leg, and squeezing my reign, I turned her towards home. I was late, and I would certainly hear it from my Mother (does that woman ever find anything good about me?) when I got home.  
  
Heaving what seemed like the thousandth sigh that day, I nudged Fanawy forward, and started the journey home. 


	2. Chapter 2

The Primrose  
  
Ch 2.  
  
An- Well.. here's another chapter.  
  
~*~  
  
= To The Rebels =  
  
Here's to the rebels, The ones that fall The ones that go and loose it all  
  
Here's to the misfits, The rejects, the ones who break the rules. People stare, criticize, and they don't mind a bit.  
  
To those who see outside the box, Those who fall out from the flocks Of people here, and people there Who can't see what good they bring Of those who go where others don't dare.  
  
So fight my friends and bring them down, And go and paint that damn town red And never once let regretful thoughts Run through your hard, obnoxious, little head.  
  
(I know that sucked. I wrote it for my friend. Please forgive me...)  
  
~*~  
  
As the dark form in the distance became clear, I shook my head. Father had told me not to go and do anything that would upset my mother, but I can't help but wonder if there isn't anything that I do that pleases her.  
  
Trotting through the streets, I slowly made my way up to the Golden Hall. I was late once again.  
  
Stopping at the entrance of the stables, I hurried in. There would be no time for an extra elaborate grooming for Fanawy.  
  
I quickly undid the girth, and slid the saddle off of her broad back. Throwing the saddle blanket over the stall door, I grabbed a cloth and wiped off the saddle area, where the sweat had left marks. Sliding off the bridal, and dunking the metal bit a couple of times into her water trough, I slipped out of the door, and grabbing the tack, walked to my family's tack racks. Setting my belonging in their rightful place, I walked speedily to the large water trough at the end of the stables.  
  
Picking up a wooden bucket, I filled it, and walked as quickly, and as smoothly, as I could to her stall. After refilling her trough, I went and got the chestnut mare her hay. Finished with my duties, I ran out into the streets, and went as fast I could towards my house.  
  
Our family was of modest means, not rich, but not living in the filthy squander that some family's called their homes. But Father said that it did not matter just what the house was made of, or how many gowns you owned.  
  
"Home is where the heart is, or where there is joy and love." He had said to me, when I was but a mere child still.  
  
Dashing into our front room, I was not surprised to see my mother, as elegant as ever, sitting in one of the chairs, quietly working on her cross stitching project.  
  
"Where were you Brillian?" she asked me, in a quiet voice, like the calm before a storm, I knew as well as any sailor there was one headed my way.  
  
"I was out riding." I answered, there was no use in playing games.  
  
"Alone?"  
  
"Yes. Well, not really. I had Fanawy as company. And I saw Devyn and his mares racing across the Eastern boarders."  
  
"You went that close to the Eastern boarders? Why would you do such a foolish thing as that? You of all people should know how dangerous going out so close to the boarders, really anywhere, is nowadays! Besides, I thought that I had forbidden you to go out like that anymore, and that you had duty for the Lady today."  
  
I glanced at her. Was that a look of worry on her face? "The lady said that I had a day off for all the work I had done recently."  
  
Well...It was a half truth. The lady said that I could take a day off sometime; she just had never said that I could today. And I hadn't told her I would be taking that day off today.  
  
"Did you see any of that herd that would be worthy of buying?" she asked me. It threw me completely off subject, and out of focus for a moment.  
  
"Yes. There was a young steel gray that moved nicely, and there was a seal brown mare. I couldn't see how old the gray was."  
  
This was strange. We really didn't have the time or the resources to train a yearling now that my father and brother had gone with Lord Eomer. It took all the effort I had to take care of two horses, and to be a handmaiden. No, I want' quite sure as to where this was leading.  
  
Glancing once more at my mother, I headed towards the ladder to the loft. This was where Anwar and I used to sleep.  
  
Placing my foot on the first rung, I heard my mother get up from her seat.  
  
"Brill, I know that you aren't happy about the marriage, but could you at least give it, him a chance couldn't you?"  
  
I stared at her. Who did this woman think she was? Oh. That's right. My mother.  
  
"Why. That's my only question. Why did you have to arrange this marriage? Just because you had an arraigned marriage to father doesn't mean I have to marry in a fashion such as this. Why can't I marry for love? And why couldn't you wait until this war is over? Who knows, I might be a widow if you married us before this endless thing ceases."  
  
I was not happy. Valar above I was not happy with the way things were going.  
  
"Your father and I learned to love each other! I am sure that will be the case for you. You can't marry for love because you are not some common peasant, and this will work as a negotiation between our two houses. And do not DARE to even speak about this war and widowing! You know nothing of the sort!"  
  
I glared back at her defiantly. "That's right, I know nothing of it. And I hope to the gods that I never will! But, Oh, That's right, you and father are marrying me off to some stranger!"  
  
I could see her intake of breath at that. Her eyes widened, she drew up her short frame to her full height, which still only reached my chest.  
  
"If him being a stranger to you is the problem, then we can arrange for that to be fixed."  
  
"Yes. Go ahead mother. Arrange another thing for my life. It seems that I can do nothing for myself any longer."  
  
"Indeed." She looked at me, scrutinizing, and sat down. "If you are so set in being that way, carry on. But expect the consequences to be dire for your behavings. Or rather, misbehavings!"  
  
"I intend fully on doing that!" Stalking to the bowl on the oaken table, I grabbed an apple and a roll out of it, and stormed out into the streets. Honestly. What was the point of even bothering going home anymore? It seemed that all the two of us accomplished was fighting like cats and dogs.  
  
Still in a bad mood, I stomped (very unlady like) up the many steps of the Hall, and was prepared to storm past Hamma, into the Hall.  
  
And was abruptly stopped by said guard.  
  
"I am sorry Milady, but I must require you to remo-"  
  
Ye gods!  
  
"I am in no ways armed, sir, but I am sure that I could think of some way of inflicting bodily harm if I must. Now, please move."  
  
I was in a foul mood, and was in no mind to deal with people, especially ones who would think that I am armed. But that was the problem. I was. I always carried a small blade in the bodice of my dresses, and if I didn't happen to be wearing one, in a small pocket in my boot.  
  
Marching past the doorsman, I opened the doors to the hall, and quickly made my way to Lady Eowyn's chambers.  
  
Finally reaching them, I knocked swiftly, and hearing the faint 'come in' I opened the door.  
  
"Ahh. Brillian, I see you have decided to come after all." Said a rich voice from the other side of the sitting room.  
  
Turning I saw my lady in a midnight blue gown, with azure earrings, and an azure and golden pendent around her throat.  
  
"Yes. I had to get away. I can't stand it anymore!"  
  
She smirked at me. "Still ranting over the fact that you are to be married?"  
  
Seriously, I could see why they tried to keep the knowledge of the use of all things pointy from the minds of the female sex. There would be serious harm if there were one to many disagreements between the court ladies.  
  
"Yes." I simply said. "Is there anything that my lady requires?"  
  
"I would like you to pick a dress for me to wear, and to pick out the jewels that would go with it, and then please call for the servants to draw me a bath, and quickly." She said, lounging on the couch.  
  
She would seem so cold and arrogant at times, and so kind and warm. I had to wonder which was the true nature of Eowyn of Rohan.  
  
Sighing, I went and did as I was bid, too emotionally spent at the time to think anything even remotely rebellious in nature.  
  
Walking towards the large, dark cabinent that easily exceded my height, I opened it and searced through the various dresses that my lady owned. Sighing, I choses an emerald green one, with gold trim, and sleeves that belled out and would reach down to her waist.  
  
Laying that gently down on the bed, I padded over to the vanity, and as I reached for the jewelry box, I looked at myself in the polished silver palte, hanging above the wood's surface.  
  
I couldn't see why anyone would be interested in me for my looks.  
  
Sighing, I renched myself out of such treacherous thoughts, now was not the time, or place.  
  
I searched through the numerous earings, and decided on simple golden dangles. Searching for a necklance, I picked one of the horse's head, and a bracelet that went with it.  
  
I lay the jewelry on the vanity, put the lid back on the china, and softly went back to the cabinet. Reaching into the draw below, I searched for the emerald green slippers that would go with it, and on second thought, brought out the boots of rich, supple leather with me.  
  
"My lady?" I called out into the sitting room. "You're things are ready." For while I had been gathering her clothing, the other servants had lugged pails of steaming water into her room, and deposited them in the heavy iron tub in the bathing room.  
  
Sighing softly as the lady went to the bathroom and disrobed, I waited on the overstuffed couch. 


End file.
